


Defcon Alpha

by sjhw_tolerance (mscorkill)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-27
Updated: 2012-05-27
Packaged: 2017-11-06 02:05:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mscorkill/pseuds/sjhw_tolerance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>General O'Neill's idea of a world-ending event isn't quite the same as Carter's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Defcon Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> Just some silliness; originally posted September 2008.

DEFCON ALPHA

“Defcon Alpha.” His voice was low, a hushed whisper in her ear; the click as the phone was immediately hung up not allowing her anytime to respond. Not that she needed any, she knew exactly what he meant, her apprehension with the unexpected summons warring with the slow thrill already spreading through her.

Sam Carter slowly hung the receiver back up; it was too bad her mood verged on cranky and all she really wanted to do was go home. It had been a dull, boring and long five days on P6R-991, babysitting Daniel and his trio of fledging archaeologists on their first off world mission. Teal’c was okay company, but even she could tell after the second day that he was just as tired of her company as she was of his. She wanted to sleep in her own bed and eat something that didn’t come pre-packaged from the Air Force or had been a living, hopping thing mere hours earlier.

She should have gone home as soon as they’d been cleared by Brightman, but no, she had to hang around, stop by her lab, check her email. It was uncanny—he was uncanny, his timing perfect as she had been just about to leave. Sam wondered if she could ignore it, he hadn’t made it an actual order…but he was the base commander and it was a Defcon Alpha. Time was wasting though; she only had five minutes once the initial call was placed to reach the rendezvous point and she’d already wasted one minute debating the wisdom of ignoring her commanding officer. 

Making her decision, Sam tossed her leather jacket on her desk and tucked her access card into the back pocket of her jeans before stepping cautiously out into the hallway and shutting her lab door behind her. There wouldn’t be much foot traffic on the lab level this time of day, so she wasn’t worried about running into anyone unexpectedly. Sam carefully made her way to the stairwell and slipped through the door, shutting it noiselessly behind her. She took a moment to listen for the sound of any voices or footsteps, and upon hearing none, she walked as quickly—and quietly—down the six flights of stairs as her cowgirl mules would let her.

When she reached the level twenty-five landing, she once again exercised caution and slowly opened the stairwell door. Peeking into the already dimly-lit corridor, she didn’t see anyone so she stepped confidently out into the hallway. Three doors down she reached her goal; she pulled her access badge out of her back pocket and swiped it through the door lock, slipping soundlessly into the dark room.

He was already there of course, even in the dark his strong hands closed accurately around her and pulled her into his embrace, his mouth immediately finding hers. All of her annoyance and fatigue disappeared under the hot demand of his kiss. This wasn’t a calm, leisurely welcome home kiss, this was a ‘thank god you’re back I can’t wait a minute longer’ kind of kiss. Not that she cared or that it mattered. 

His mouth devoured hers, nipping and tugging at her lower lip with his teeth until she opened her mouth and allowed him access. One arm kept her firmly clamped against his chest while the other already tugged at her blouse, pulling it free. She squirmed against him, grinding her pelvis against him, muffling his low growl of approval with her tongue in his mouth. Momentarily satisfied, they continued to kiss; Sam ran her fingers through his short silver hair, mussing it even more she was sure, before gently raking her nails along his nape.

The next time, his low growl was followed by movement when she felt his arms tighten around her and in three shuffling steps, her legs bumped up against the metal cot in the room. Anticipating his next action, she loosened her grip on him and when he tumbled her down onto the narrow bed, she was ready. His heavy body landed on top of her almost immediately and with only a brief struggle and minimal flailing of arms and legs, she maneuvered herself on top of him. 

The cot sagged and groaned in protest, the abused springs creaking slightly and Sam wondered how long it would be before this one had to be replaced. Her thoughts didn’t linger on the frailty of their bed for too long though, Jack’s sure hands skimming her blouse off more than enough distraction. The skin on her belly rippled at the feel of his fingers when they slipped beneath the waistband of her jeans and she hastily unfastened her bra while he popped the button on her jeans. Flinging the bra to the floor, she rose up slightly on her knees over him, their hands meeting in a combined effort to tug her jeans and panties down over her hips. 

Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness now and the minimal light filtering in under the door was enough for her to see the pale outline of his face. She stretched slightly, knowing he could see her as well. His hands glided up her side, his thumbs brushing against her breasts. She smiled and then in a movement achieved with much practice, she sat back on his thighs, his hands reaching up to steady her. She’d lost one of her mules already and she kicked off the other one, hearing it hit the floor with a thud. Raising one long leg and then the other, she leaned back and braced herself with her hands while Jack’s hands traveled from her waist and down her thighs in a slow caress before he tugged her jeans and panties off the rest of the way.

Lithely lowering her legs, she straddled his hips and once more knelt over him. From this point forward it was always a test of her resolve to get his clothing removed, an effort that wasn’t helped when she had to fight his caressing hands in her struggle to remove his T-shirt. Sometimes it only made it as far as his underarms, the material bunched up and caught there, but this time she managed to get the shirt entirely off him before the distraction of his hands and fingers caressing and touching every inch of her skin her could undermine her resolve. Sam immediately went to work on his belt next, easily unfastening it and tugging his pants and boxers down to his knees. His boots were still on and with his hands already moving with easy assurance along her hip and teasingly between her legs, she decided he was undressed enough.

After a week apart, it didn’t take much for either of them, so when she rose up over him, his hands returned at once to her waist to steady her. Sam knew if she could see his face clearly, his eyes would be filled with equal parts of love and lust. As it was, she’d have to be content with the memory, so with one hand on his chest and the other closed around his straining erection, she slowly sank down onto him, guiding him into her body. Sam sighed with relief as she settled onto him, the exquisite sensations spreading through her a confirmation of their love, grounding her like no one else ever had.

With their initial urgency now eased, Sam started to move leisurely over him, establishing a rhythm that was at once familiar and fresh each time they made love. His hands moved lazily over her body, caressing her breasts, running lightly along her ribs until he eventually cupped her ass, his touch urging her on. Shifting, she braced herself over him, his hands remaining at her hips and guiding her movements. She was close enough to him now that she could almost see his face and the intense look of love and passion fueled her ardor. His breathing was rough and labored and she could feel the strain in his muscles as he moved with her. It wouldn’t be long now she knew, and she moved slightly when she felt one of his hands slip to where they were joined, welcoming his touch with a soft sigh. 

“Jack,” she whispered, clutching at his shoulders now while she rocked against him. His matching caresses had their desired effect, pleasure building within her until passion exploded through her in waves of pure ecstasy. Sam shuddered with pleasure, burying her face in his throat, moaning softly in pure delight. Jack’s hands clamped tightly on her hips then, holding her firmly against him while he thrust up against her. His low groan of pleasure rumbled up through his chest and she breathed deeply, absorbing the intensity of the few brief moments when he was all hers.

Long moments later when their breathing had returned to normal and she was sprawled comfortably across his chest, Sam sighed in deep contentment. Jack’s hands moved in lazy caresses down her back and she smiled against his chest, nuzzling her cheek against his warm skin. “So what was it this time?” she murmured.

“Hmmm?”

Sam raised her head and looked down at him, the satisfied glint in his eyes just visible.  
“Defcon Alpha? End of the world?”

“Oh…that.”

She ran a finger lightly down the bridge of his nose. “Yes, that.”

“Well….”

“Don’t tell me they got the Yukon Golds again instead of the Russets?”

“Oh no, this time it’s even worse.”

She raised an eyebrow she doubted he could see. “Worse than the Yukon Gold disaster?”

“Much,” he said. “Instead of Romaine they sent Iceberg lettuce. The cook is hysterical.”

“I see.” Sam slowly pushed up off his chest, sliding into a sitting position on the cot, wincing slightly when her feet touched the cold cement floor. “You know, Jack,” she said, “we really need to discuss what constitutes an end of the world event.” 

Not waiting for his answer, she stood up and took the few steps across the cold floor to the door, feeling along the wall for the light switch. The bright, unfiltered light from the no-frills bulb filled the small room; her lover lay on the cot, looking totally satisfied and unrepentant. Ignoring him for the moment, she gathered her scattered clothing off the floor before sitting back down next to him. 

“When I agreed to…” she paused for a moment, not quite sure why she had agreed to what essentially boiled down to an end of the world booty call; not that it really mattered now. “…this,” she finally said, her bra flopping around when she gestured towards him with her hand. Catching herself with a frown, she pulled her bra on and fastened it, vividly aware of his dark eyes watching her every move. “Let’s just say I imagined something a little more apocalyptic—like a Goa’uld invasion, not some grocery mix-up.” 

“Sam.” Jack shook his head and made a ‘tsking’ noise. “It may not seem life and death to you, but I can assure you the people expecting the chicken caesar salad for lunch tomorrow aren’t going to feel the same way!”

THE END


End file.
